I can happily say working with Zahava was one of the most profound spiritual journeys I’ve had the good fortune of experiencing in my life.- Diana Ferrante, Women’s Empowerment Leader, Intuitive Advisor

Zahava's work has returned me to the natural state of being my most loving and most beloved self. - Emily Tepper, Receptivity Coach & Craniosacral Therapist

This was exactly what I needed to rebalance myself. I was able to release the week’s stress and gain confidence in being the clear minded and moving bodied me that I want to be. - An overworking teacher

Zahava gave me the nurturing excavation tools to my inner realms that have been yearning to moan, be touched, to be remembered, honored, revered, and celebrated.- Jennifer Maeve

This work not only supported me grounding in my own feminine experience, but it translated into my work as a coach--allowing a new depth of connection with my clients and their own sacred and sexual journeys.- Dana, Certified Life Coach

Thank you for holding and creating such beautiful space for my own feminine to unfold and reveal herself to me through my body.- Elizabeth Joy Mueller, Business Coach & Intuitive Guide

Esalen is the heart chakra of the Earth, for me. I remember the first time I sat on the grass near the sweat lodge and the ground vibrated. The connection between people and the land felt so alive. For nearly four thousand years the Esalen people have been coming to this land of the sacred waters, the salt water ocean, the fresh water spring that runs through the canyon, and the hot sulphur springs. They have come here to heal and to die, they did not live here year round.

The intentionality of their relationship with this place is profoundly tangible. After the Europeans came and took over this land it remained a place for healing and transformation. Very few people live here even now, most come for a weekend or week to enter the next phase of their life in a new way. There is still a place on the land, around the sweat lodge that is reserved for the descendants of the Esalen tribe who lead us in a beautiful ceremony at the end of our month long journey. They shared with us the medicine of being here, grateful, connected…they remember and forgive the history of this land in a way that moved me.

This land called me back. This is where I learn and live in true intimacy with nature. I had the pleasure of living here a month while training in Esalen Massage.

One night I came down to the big stone tubs at the edge of the ocean. I stepped into the hot sulphur water and lowered myself slowly. The stars were brilliantly clear in the dark sky. Tiny cool droplets of rain were starting to caress my face. I heard a male voice singing. I could tell there were 4 other people in the tub with me, though we could not see each other. His voice greeted me, “would you like to float?”

Yes. I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but I knew I was a yes. He guided me to lay back in the water for a “pseudo watsu” journey. Four sets of hands came under by floating body. The warm water filled my ears and vibrated with my heartbeat. The rain cooled my face, my nipples, and the tips of my toes. “See IS small!” I heard from the people holding me, and I laughed, for we could not see each other. I was being discovered. As I floated I could feel the patience in their hands. I could feel that we were going to be here until… until I let them know we were complete. How much love could I receive? I asked myself with amusement.

That night all 4 of us rotated floating each other, interspersed with conversations and silences. We spoke of returning a soul through intention based abortion. We slithered over each other and made dolphin noises. We talked of our dreams in motion now and the women’s circles we have on the full moon.

A few days later I saw a man in the lodge at lunch, with a peculiar white hat. Are you Gabe, from the tubs the other night? “Are you Zahava?!” We laughed, taking in the new information our eyes offered to us. I wondered if this is how Oneness experiences us, as voices, life paths, energies, playing by the ocean.

Irene has passed through this morning. The birds came back to the trees around 11 am. I watched a squirrel carry her tiny baby in her mouth as she ran up a tree to her nest. The baby’s tail was no bigger than a green bean. The mother perched at the edge of the nest watching me with quick breaths and swollen pink breasts. I had witnessed her intimate act. As we looked at each other, I sensed how similar we were protecting our Loved ones from the storm.

Irene, comes from Greek origin, meaning “Peace.” The calmness of Sunday afternoon has been escalated in our attention. We’ve stopped bracing ourselves, we can unpack our emergency bags. She surrounds us, this incredible presence reminding us we are alive and safe. The water in the glass jar on my kitchen cabinet looks precious today…our gratitude has been reset, and everything is registering as a gift.

Today I journey in my body. I celebrate Irene’s gifts by clearing my midline and surging her magnificent power through my yoni, into the cave of my pelvis. My belly is swelling with laughter and a sense of purpose: to Love. In this moment I ask to experience all the deepest pleasures we as humans have shared with each other in orgasmic bliss, through out time. This energy is here asking to be called upon! She is as eager as I am to meet. The trembling begins. It is the physicality of awe. But what strikes me most is the softness in here, the sweet embrace that lovers exchange after climaxing. It is as if all these happy souls are embracing me through my own arms. It is the same LOVE energy and instinct of the mother squirrel carrying her loved one to safety.

Irene, I believe you have shaken some guards from our hearts today. Our simple needs for food, water, light, shelter have brought a tenderness to our being. You could have made heroes and mourners of us today. But instead you have graced us with this curious calm afternoon. Thank you.

We are approaching Samhain, more commonly known as Halloween, when the veil between the living and the dead is the thinest. The wisdom that evolves us across generations is more readily available to us during this season and so is our resistance to this wisdom.

The costumes, the glucose spikes, the masks, the characters we let ourselves become at Halloween may deepen our journey or they may become an entertaining distraction from it. Perhaps we’ll have the best of both worlds, we’ll entertain ourselves with the truth while looking out from the costumes of the familiar! That’s exactly the intention behind the ritual I am offering tomorrow on the New Moon,Celebrating the Artistry of the Dark Goddess,Wednesday, 6:30 to 8 pm, at Red Bean Studios. Register here! (please note this is from 2011)

I am often asked to lead Kali inspired rituals during this season. This year I’m recognizing that the ritual of the Dark Goddess is intimately connected to my studies of healing trauma with Peter Levine, author of “Waking the Tiger.” The tiger in the nervous system is the one who pounces when someone attacks me. She is the one who pumps my heart fast and steady when I speak loudly. She is the one looking through my eyes when I trust that who I am is valuable. When she sleeps, people can smell it on me. The boundaries get fuzzy and protection feels like a draining task that fear has asked me to perform.

I recently joined a room of mental health professionals and therapists for a training with internationally recognized trauma expert, Peter Levine. He works with the children in Japan who survived the tsunami. He works with veterans returning from war and adults who grew up in concentration camps. I dare say he works courageously close to the Dark Goddess. Kali Ma, the hindu form of the Dark Goddess, destroys that which is untrue. For thousands of years people have invoked Her energy to destroy the energetic imprints of the events which did not honor our true value.

I’ll be integrating the somatic technology that Levine uses to Wake the Tiger. He defines trauma, not as a result of a situation, but it is the result of the tiger sleeping during the situation. Kali, like rage, is often misunderstood and feared. Her limitless unapologetic freedom can be presented out of context, falsely legitimizing our unconscious lust and unexamined envy. We invoke her in this ritual with great respect and purpose. She is the Mother Nature energy at its most powerful-civilization-rumblin-core, she is the Goddess of death. She kills illusion. She expects us to be courageous and we have the opportunity to make her right.

Dark and Shadow are Not the Same

There is no Shadow inside a Mother’s womb or in the Earth, there is only fertile Darkness, possibility, and transformation. The Shadow exists where light is actively obstructed. The energy we expend to prevent this area from seeing the light of day is energy that is no longer available for trust, love, and passion. Dark Goddess, we ask you to awaken the tiger inside us, to unfreeze the memories our body has accumlated as we grow our emotional and spiritual resources. We ask for psychological rejuventation that allows us to break cycles that have replaced trust, love, and passion.

Come adorned in black, ready to dance, come ready to release a part of you that is no longer you!

Divine Costumes. That was the name of my first naked solo dancing onstage. I was in college. My parents, grandparents, cousins, aunt and uncle were in the audience. I had credited Mom and Dad as the costume designers.

Photo by Jennifer Maeve

I remember the stage manager asking if I wanted to put clothes on for the bow. I remember thinking he missed my intention… to honor the body. I remember how moved I was that night to hear people’s responses. My female housemate came up after the show and said my dance made her feel like a Goddess that night. I remember my male housemate saying he wanted to sexualize it, but he couldn’t, it was so much more. I remember grandma’s cousin sat behind some young children and she thought they would laugh. But when I started dancing they were silent and mesmerized.

I remember the email grandma’s cousin sent me 10 years later, “Beautiful Cousin, twice removed, you are out of this world! You have created a field of exploration that is all of you. I am sorry to be such an old lady, about to be 80, or I would be participating in all your events.”

I remember the dancer who was going to perform the duet with me before she developed a back injury. I remember her surprise that I encouraged her to rest and take care of her body. Our professional training had taught us to be martyrs more than sacred bodies. I remember the moment I chose to do the show anyway and to improvise a solo based on the duet we had started to create.

I remember rehearsing in the dance studio naked and covering the windows with pink foam boards. I remember my friend who sat filming me, baring her breasts in solidarity. I remember the security guard who walked in and asked us what we were doing. I remember thinking he felt more like an insecurity guard. I remember the badge I made the next day as I experimented with being a soul security guard.

Painted by Rainbow for the Sacred Sex Round Up

I remember the awkward moment of disrobing in the “dressing room” while everyone else put clothes on. I remember feeling the most comfortable on stage. I could get away with things in the spotlight that caused discomfort off stage. Maybe it was because the performance gave people permission to look… there’s some magic about performance that gives us permission to show and to see more intimately. Or maybe people like to look out from the dark.

I remember performing naked again years later at the Sacred Sex Round Up with my friends, a djembe player and an opera singer. I remember a couple came up to me after the solo crying. They said it was the first time they could share the experience of being turned on while watching a naked woman perform. They said they felt I let them see all of me. I remember the woman of the couple chosing to transform that night. She began to study with my sexual shaman teacher.

Earth held, the sky has never explained infinity so clearly.

I remember hiking naked in the red rocks of Sedona with my soul sister and best friend from kindergarden. I remember laying with our legs open, sunning our yonis. I remember how delicious the fire of the sun felt on my clit. I remember thinking, “how have I never spread my legs to the sun before?” And then thinking, where else could I? I remember the couple who came along the trail and the split second of wondering if we should move. I remember the man tripped as he came upon us. I remember inviting him into our comfort rather than joining him in his awkwardness. I remember as he passed the blessing I called out to him, and really to myself, “enjoy your life!”